


CATastrophe

by yaoihandschan



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DC Animated Universe, DC Cinematic Universe, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Catboy!Tim, Cuddling & Snuggling, Frottage, Gen, Kidnapping, M/M, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, POV Alternating, Sex Pollen-ish?, Shapeshifting, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:09:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7310728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yaoihandschan/pseuds/yaoihandschan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce agrees to watch a cat, but he ends up with a surprise.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Discovery

Bruce awoke with a gasp, a crushing pressure shutting off his airways. When he looked around to inspect the room, he was met with glowing, blue eyes. Bruce stared down the cat with his best Batman glare, but the cat seemed unbothered as he continued to purr and knead his claws shallowly into Bruce’s chest. Bruce heaves a sigh as he raised his hand to scratch between Timothy’s ears. _Honestly Selena,_ Bruce thinks, _what kind of name is Timothy for a cat?_ Timothy snorts at him indignantly as if he can read Bruce’s thoughts. Bruce turns his head to look at his bedside clock and lets out a groan. He only managed to get twenty minutes of fitful rest before he was awoken by a nightmare he’d rather not try to remember. Timothy continues to stare at Bruce, while letting out a constant purr. Bruce feels as if he’s entranced by those eyes and the next thing he’s aware of, his alarm clock is going off and the sun is rising above the skyline.

He realizes Timothy is gone from his chest, probably eating his food in the kitchen, keeping Alfred company while he prepares breakfast for himself and Damian. Warm from his shower, he makes the trek from his room to the kitchen. Just as he makes his way in, Alfred is setting his coffee down in his spot at the head of the table. “Good morning, Master Bruce,” Alfred’s calm voice greets Bruce. He offers a quiet grunt in return, not ready for verbalization before he had his second cup of coffee. The comforting sounds of Alfred moving around the kitchen lulls Bruce into functioning on autopilot. Bruce is brought out of his stupor when Damian enters the kitchen with a “Good morning, father.

Bruce inclines his head towards his son, “Good morning to you as well, Damian.”

Bruce grunts as he settles into the chair in front of the monitors in the Cave. Days of actually showing at WE tire Bruce out the most, pretending to be Brucie, acting as if he doesn’t hear the murmured complaints as he passes. Being in the Cave alone is a wonderful way for Bruce to relax, but he’s become accustomed to hearing Damian train while he updates reports and researches current illegal activity. He’s starts when he hears a crash from behind him. Bruce is up and out of the chair facing the noise in a matter of seconds. “Who’s there?” Bruce growls as Batman, he can tell Damian is already at his six. When he finds the source of the sound he lets out a longsuffering sigh. Timothy has propped himself, again, atop where the staffs are held. Timothy’s tail sways, unaware of any danger he’s in.

Damian makes his way to Timothy and lifts him into his arms, “Where do you keep getting in, you little minx? You are almost as troublesome as the woman we got you from.”

Bruce can’t help but agree with Damian’s statement. “Come, Robin, it’s time to start patrol. I’m sure he’ll be able to find his way out just as easily as he found it in.” Bruce gives a meaningful look at Timothy, as if he’d understand.

Timothy doesn’t always make his way into Bruce’s bed and Bruce finds himself missing the small ball of warmth. In the 3 months he’s lived in the Wayne manor, Timothy only crawls into his bed when he’s to have a nightmare. On the nights Timothy isn’t in his bed, Bruce dreams of a boy. Or is he a man? He isn’t sure, he’s never spoken to the boy (?), but he feels comforted by his pale blue eyes. Bruce spends these dreams curled up with the boy, his arms wrapped around Bruce’s neck while Bruce holds him around his waist. Bruce is almost sure he’s never seen this man (?) in his life, and if he has, it was never in any significant meeting. He doesn’t understand why they’re wrapped up together like this, but Bruce takes comfort in his arms. Finds himself hypnotized by his eyes that seem to glow. The mornings after these dreams, Bruce wakes well-rested and warmer than usual.

When Bruce sits down at the table to drink his coffee, Alfred informs him, “Tonight is a full moon, Master Bruce.” Bruce feels his grip tighten on his coffee cup. On full moons, crime in Gotham spikes, and the criminals get more violent. Even Damian and Bruce himself seem to struggle more with pulling punches, as to only incapacitate and not maim. Of course the Joker is out of Arkham tonight, it’s his favorite night of the month. And what night on a full moon would be complete without Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy trying to dose the entire city with sex pollen. Bruce is tired and wounded by the end of the night, but Batman and Robin were effective in stopping all three villains from causing major damage to the city of Gotham. Bruce sighs and tries his best not to tense as Alfred’s hands pass the needle through his skin.

“Honestly, Master Bruce,” Alfred mutters, “you should be more concerned with your safety, especially on a night like tonight.”

Bruce gives a rueful smile, “Forgive me, Alfred. I acted without thinking to protect Damian.” Alfred’s face remains unchanged except for the corners of his mouth, which turn down slightly.

When Alfred finishes patching him up, Bruce settles in front of the monitors. He feels exhausted, but he needs to update the files everything that happened tonight, while the details are still fresh in his mind. Bruce closes his eyes, for just a moment when he feels a sudden pressure in his lap. He opens his eyes to be greeted by two wide, shiny, blue eyes. “Yes, Timothy, I was hoping to avoid sleeping tonight,” he murmurs. Timothy tilts his head as if to question him. Bruce sighs and turns off the Batcomputer. He lifts Timothy into his arms and makes the trip up to his room. Bruce lets out a groan as he feels the tension leave his body in the shower. Dried and in a clean pair of briefs, Bruce settles into the bed with Timothy curled up on his pillow, next to his head. Before he’s realized it, Bruce is dreaming, but it’s not a nightmare as he usually expects when Timothy is in his bed. 

Bruce is on his back with his head resting in the lap of the beautiful boy who seems to be the center of all his peaceful dreams. “Bruce,” the boy’s voice seems to wrap around him and he feels short of breath. Bruce opens his mouth to try to ask who he is as the boy runs his fingers though his hair. “No need to force yourself speak,” the boy says softly, “I just wanted to thank you for your kindness.” Bruce doesn’t understand, but he feels a sudden panic. Is he never going to see this boy again? He doesn’t even know his name, but doesn’t want that to happen. As the boy slips from under Bruce’s head he struggles to move. His body feels heavy, but he manages to grip the boy’s wrist before he gets out of his reach. The boy let’s out a gasp and spins to face Bruce, “You weren’t supposed to wake up,” the boy whispers. _Wake up?_ Bruce looks around and realize the sun has risen.

“Who are you?” Bruce asks as he tightens his grip. The boy gives a rueful smile, and that's when Bruce notices them, the ears coming from the boys head. “Timothy?” he asks incredulously.


	2. Introduction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll probably update irregularly, but i'm really motivated to write right now.

They’re seated in the kitchen at opposite ends of the table, Alfred has already set the table and left the kitchen. Bruce observes (he _refuses_ to label it staring) Timothy while the boy awkwardly picks at the plate in front of him, his ears idly twitching with every small sound that comes from outside the dining room. Bruce finally clears his throat and Timothy starts. “Can you please explain what’s going on?” Bruce asks in a tone that’s closer to Batman than anything else.

Timothy lets out a sigh, “Selena was supposed to explain to you what was going on, and for that I’m sorry.” He looks up to meet Bruce’s eyes and he can tell that Timothy is sincere. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, I-I’d call myself a shapeshifter, but I’ve only just recently been able to change at will.” Timothy flattens his ears to his head and Bruce can probably assume his tail is being kept close to his body. “Two months ago, I shifted on the full moon, but found myself unable to shift back...”

At that moment Damian makes his way into the dining room. “Good mor-,” Damian stops mid-sentence as he becomes aware of Timothy’s presence. “Father, who is this?” Damian places his hand on the pocket Bruce knows he keeps his knife, even if Bruce has asked him to leave his weapons in the Cave. As soon as Timothy turns his head and make eye contact with Damian, recognition registers on Damian’s face. Timothy quickly turns his eyes to the ground and seems to curl in on himself more.

“Um,” Timothy mutters, “I went to Selena a week after I couldn’t change back, but she needed to leave the city for a while, so I ended up here.” By the time he’s finished speak, Damian has seated himself to Bruce’s left and Timothy has folded into himself as much as he can.

Bruce opens his mouth to speak, before he can get a word out, Timothy has bolted up from his seat. “I’m sorry to have intruded. I’ll get out of your hair, I’m sure you're uncomfortable. Excuse me!”

As Timothy turns to make his escape Dick has stopped in the doorway to the kitchen. “Uh, hi, I'm Dick,” Dick looks to Timothy and then to Bruce. “Wow, B, I didn’t know you were into such… things.”

Bruce sighs as Damian jumps up from his seat, “Do not be indecent Grayson!”

Dick lets out an awkward laugh and concedes with a muttered, “it was just a joke.” Timothy has been looking back and forth between all three of the other men in the room.

“Timothy, please, sit down. There’s no need for you to leave,” Bruce inclines he head towards the seat Timothy had been sitting in before he bolted. Timothy slowly trudges back to his seat and plops down. Dick takes the seat to Timothy’s right and stares intently at him while Damian seats himself back in his seat.

“Timothy,” Bruce start, “please, feel free to stay as long as you like, but we will need to talk about the secret you must keep.”

As Bruce talks, Dick has started reaching in Timothy’s direction. Timothy had been so intently paying attention to Bruce speak, he didn’t notice Dick’s hand until it was already petting his head. At first contact, Timothy stiffens, but as Dick continues to pet him Timothy relaxes into his touch and starts to let out a purring noise. Dick softly scratches Timothy’s ears and Timothy is no longer able to keep his eyes open. 

As Dick pets down Timothy’s neck Damian slams his hands on the table, causing Timothy to jump and Dick to smirk, “I told you to not be indecent Grayson, we are at the table!”

At that moment, Bruce realizes he has his fists clenched on his lap. He forces himself to relax and stand up, “Timothy, come with me,” he says before he walks to the doorway.

Timothy quickly gets up to follow closely behind him. “Um,” Timothy’s trepid voice come from behind him, “where are we going?” Bruce doesn’t answer and continues to walk until he stops in front of Alfred bedroom. He knocks on Alfred’s door, which is promptly opened on the second knock.

“How may I assist you, Master Bruce?” Alfred greets. Bruce steps slightly to the side so that Alfred has a clearer view of Timothy, who is doing his level best to hide himself behind Bruce, and with such a small body, he’s mostly succeeding. 

“Could you please prepare a room for Timothy to stay in?” Bruce hears a gasp and feels a small hand grip his suit sleeve. 

“Mr. Wayne, you really don’t have to trouble yourself!” Timothy’s eyes are wide and he looks afraid. Alfred offers a comforting smile and steps out of his bedroom.

“Please, Master…” Alfred prompts.

Timothy scrambles to answer, “Drake.”

Alfred places his hand on Timothy’s upper back, “Well, Master Drake, if you would please come with me, I can prepare your room for you while Master Bruce heads to the office,” Alfred says as he offers a pointed look to Bruce.

Bruce parts from Timothy and Alfred to do as Alfred says and head to the office. It seems the best he can do is give Timothy some space to settle in.

*

Tim sits at the desk while Alfred changes the sheets on the bed. “Master Drake, please, make yourself comfortable,” Alfred turns to face Tim as he speaks, “there are towels in the bathroom and extra clothes in the closet if you wish to shower.” Alfred makes his way to the door and softly closes it behind himself. And when the click of the door closing sounds, Tim feels as if everything has just now clicked in his mind. He’s staying in Bruce Wayne’s manor, Bruce Wayne is going to let him stay, even in his human form. Tim quickly rushes to the bathroom to turn the shower on. It’ll be easier for him to deny the tears if there’s water already running down his face.

After he’s dried off, Tim curls up on the bed, under the comforter. He forces his body, and mind, to relax. He has so many things to think about, but there’s plenty of time, after he’s rested, to think about what he’s going to do. The next time Tim opens his eyes, the sunlight coming through the window is a soft mix of reds and yellows. Tim crawls out from under the covers to pull on a shirt. He shuffles down to the kitchen, hunger guiding him. He’s greeted by the soft sounds of Alfred preparing food. Tim’s tail swishes with excitement as he smells the food Alfred is cooking. “Master Drake,” Tim does _not_ almost jump out of his skin, “please, set the table for me, Masters Jason and Dick shall be joining us tonight.” Tim forces the hair on his tail to smooth and takes the plates Alfred has set out to the table.

As soon as Tim's finished, Alfred addresses him with, “Please, change for dinner, Master Drake.” Tim nods and makes his way back to his room, deep in thought, but as he makes his way down the hallway he runs into someone’s chest.

“Forgive me! I wasn’t paying attention,” as Tim looks up, he’s met with Mr. Wayne’s deep blue eyes.

“No, Timothy, it’s my fault, I was…distracted,” at the moment, Mr. Wayne looks at Tim’s attire and a small tinge of color rises to his cheeks.

“Are… Are you alright Mr. Wayne, are you feeling ill?” Tim lifts his hand to feel Mr. Wayne’s forehead, but his wrist is caught before he can make contact.

“I’m quite alright Timothy,” Mr. Wayne begins, “it’s simply that… the shirt you are wearing once belonged to me.”

Tim looks down at the button-up he slipped on and feels himself blush as his tail swishes nervously, “I - Alfred said-“

Mr. Wayne squeezes his wrist softly, soothingly, “I’m not upset, Timothy, I was simply surprised for a moment.”

Tim feels his ears twitch, “Oh… thank goodness,” Tim sighs as he looks towards the wrist that Mr. Wayne is still holding. “I… I need to go change for dinner.”

Bruce lets go of his wrist like it burned him, “Of course, I will… see you at dinner tonight.” Tim nods and quickly makes his way around Mr. Wayne and hurries to his room.


	3. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> someone take my computer away.

As soon as Tim makes it into his room he shuts the door behind himself and leans his back against the door as his hear pounds quickly. He can still feel the heat from Mr. Wayne’s hand holding his wrist. _What is going on with me?_ He thinks franticly. Tim had just turned 16 when his parents had passed. Refusing to go in to foster care, he became emancipated and with the money his parents left behind Tim lived on his own. Now, three years later after being relentlessly chased by those who want to study shapeshifters. Tim’s parents, even when they were alive, never really explained what it meant to be a shapeshifter, nor did they touch him very often. _Maybe that’s it?_ He thinks, _I’m not used to being touched._

Tim sighs and pushes off the door to go get changed. Dinner will start soon and Tim doesn’t want to miss out. Seated at the table, Tim waits patiently for the other’s to join him at the table. Alfred said someone named Jason would be joining them for dinner tonight. Tim wondered if it would be Mr. Wayne’s second adopted son, Jason Todd. Tim is startled by a chair scraping the ground as it’s pulled out from the table. Dick sits in the exact spot he sat this morning and offers a warm smile to Tim. He feels comforted, even if Dick is a stranger, he exudes a warm feeling and Tim can’t help but feel relaxed around him. Soon after, Mr. Wayne and Damian make their way into the dining room. As soon as they are seated Alfred begins serving bowls of stew. 

“Master Jason said he should arrive ‘soon’,” Alfred says as he places a bowl in front of Tim.

When Alfred places the main course of baked chicken and steamed vegetables, there’s a loud bang of a door being slammed downstairs, followed by stomping.

“I’m home!” Tim assumes that’s Jason’s voice that comes from the doorway. Dick looks at Tim as his ears fly up and his tail stiffens. Dick has a look in his eyes like he wants to reach out and touch him.

“Master Jason,” Alfred intones, “please do not shout during dinner.”

Jason chuckles as he heads to the middle of the table to sit down, “aw Alfie, I missed you too.”

Alfred doesn’t respond as he places Jason’s plate in front of him. And in that moment Jason looks Tim’s way and then to Dick to his right. Jason offers a leer in Dicks’ direction, “Why, Dickiebird, I didn’t think you’d be kinky enough to bring your bedroom life to the dinner table.”

Tim feels himself blush and hears Mr. Wayne clear his throat, “Jason, this is Timothy, he’ll be staying at the manor for a while.”

Jason studies Tim closely and Tim pulls his ears close to his head to look smaller. “You’re just taking in anyone these days, huh Bruce?” Jason accuses. Mr. Wayne just continues to eat. Tim follows his lead and begins to eat again. Dick, Damian and Jason banter with Mr. Wayne joining in when spoken to. Tim eats quickly, silently, feeling like an intruder on family time. When he finishes he gathers his dishes and carries them to the sink. As he tries to slip out of the dining room without being noticed, he feels a pair of arms wrap around his waist. Tim yelps and accidentally digs his nails into the arms wrapped around him.

He hears the person hiss in pain behind him, “Sorry, Timmy,” he hears Dick say.

Tim quickly removes his claws and spins in Dick’s arms, “I’m so sorry!” Tim wriggles in Dick’s hold, trying to get away when Dick nuzzles Tim’s ears.

“Calm down,” Dick whispers, “I promise I won’t hurt you.” Tim relaxes himself in Dick’s hold.

“Dick,” Mr. Wayne says tightly, “Let him go.” Dick releases Tim from his hold, but captures his hand before he can get away.

“Damn, B,” Jason laughs, “Protective much? You should be used to Dick wanting to cuddle every cute thing he sees.” Tim looks in Mr. Wayne’s direction and is scared to see how hard his eyes looks. Tim finds himself looks in any direction but Mr. Wayne and ends up making eye contact with Dick.

“What do you say Timmy?” Dick begins, “Can I cuddle with you?” Tim feels his tail twitch in interest, his cat hindbrain purring excitedly as he blushes and nods. As Dick drags him out of the room he feels Mr. Wayne’s eyes on the back of his head.

*

Bruce tightens his grip on his fork while Timothy is dragged out of the room. He feels Damian watching him intently so he forces his hands to relax. “Father, what are you thinking keeping that riffraff in this house?”

Jason lets out a snort as Bruce turns to face his son, “Damian, don’t be rude to guests. Timothy knows about our secret identities and it would be wise to make sure he is on our side before he leaves. And as I recall, you had no problem with that 'riffraff' when he was fully feline.” Damian studies his father’s face and finally nods reluctantly. Jason stands from the table and heads presumably in the same direction Dick and Timothy went.

Damian rolls his eyes, “Leaving already, Todd?”

Jason throws a smirk over his shoulder in Damian’s direction, “I’m going to cuddle with a pretty little kitty,” and walks out of the dining room. Bruce forces himself to finish his dinner and not follow and drag Timothy away from his troublesome sons.

As Bruce makes his way to the Cave he passes by the living room where Timothy and his sons are. And as he passes, he stops in his tracks. Timothy is laid out, with his head on Dick’s chest and his bottom in Jason’s lap. He’s purring loudly with his eyes closed as Dick pets his head and neck and Jason pets his back and tail. Bruce feels a surge of…something pass through his chest when Jason sneers in his direction. Dick must notice Bruce’s presence because he turns to give him a sarcastically innocent smile. Bruce leaves his face blank as he addresses them, “It’s time for patrol you two, let’s go.” Timothy starts at the sound of Bruce’s voice and scrambles off of Jason and Dick, only to fall on the floor.

Jason and Dick let out raucous laughter, “I thought cats were supposed to land on their feet!” Jason gets out between bouts of laughter. Timothy throws an indignant look over his shoulder as he stands up, which only causes them to laugh harder.

*

“Cave. Now,” Mr. Wayne, or more acuratly, Batman, says. Tim feels himself shiver at that voice. Jason and Dick move quickly off the couch and hurry past Mr. Wayne. He stares into Tim’s eyes and Tim feels himself warm all over and heat rise to his cheeks.

As Mr. Wayne turn to leave Tim starts, “I-” and Mr. Wayne turns back to face him. Tim shivers and parts his lips, “I… I just wanted to thank you. I didn’t get to thank you properly…”

Mr. Wayne’s eyes soften and he makes his way over to Tim. To Tim, it feels like time itself stops and doesn’t start again until Mr. Wayne places his hand on Tim’s cheek, “You don’t need to thank me,” Mr. Wayne’s voice warms Tim up even more. Mr. Wayne quickly pulls away and heads in the same direction Jason and Dick went.


	4. Embarrassment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> my first time writing something nsfw, y'know, besides just in my head.

Bruce was off his game in the field that night, he couldn’t get thoughts of Timothy out of his head. He’d let a mugger get a lucky shot in, but his knife wasn’t sharp enough to pierce his armor. Alfred would have his head if he had to patch him up from another knife wound.

Bruce turned on his comm, “B here, headed in early.” Bruce received answering grunts from the others on the line. 

Back in the Cave, Bruce strips out of his gear and heads to the locker room. Under the spray of water, he lets his mind wander back to Timothy. Timothy, with his wide, trusting eyes. Timothy, who seemed so shy, but touch-starved. Timothy, who was small enough to be held down and – _no!_ Bruce stopped that thought in its tracks, Timothy was probably no more than half his age. Bruce had no right to think of him, someone so pure and young, in such a dirty way.

Settled in front of the monitors of the Batcomputer, Bruce reconnects his comm to help Oracle guide the heroes out in the field. By the time everyone is off the street, Bruce has had his fifth cup of black coffee, and Alfred has tried to urge him to bed at least seven times. Feeling exhausted, Bruce hopes he’ll sleep peacefully through the night, but his hopes rarely do come true. Tonight, he dreams of the night he failed his son, the night Jason got killed. He’s running, he’s almost to Jason, he hears him begging for Bruce to save him in his ear. He’s almost there and then the bomb goes off. He wakes up screaming Jason’s name, but there are arms wrapped around his neck and a face pressed into his neck.

Bruce clutches the body to his chest while his mind clears and he wakes fully. He loosens his grip when he catches his breath and realizes whose body he’s holding. He gently pushes Timothy away and sits up. Timothy makes a protesting noise, but is moved easily, seeing as how much smaller Timothy is than him. Small enough for Bruce to just push down – _stop._

Timothy meets his eyes tentatively as he whispers, “Do you not like me anymore?”

Which causes Bruce to be taken aback, “Why on earth would you think that?”

Timothy gazes down at his lap, “You had no problem sleeping together… before…”

Bruce feels his breath leave his lungs when he sees the sadness in Timothy's eyes and the slump in his shoulders. He quickly pulls Timothy towards himself and he doesn’t utter a word for fear of revealing too much, but he tucks Timothy under the covers with himself. At first, Timothy is stiff, but soon he’s fitting perfectly against Bruce, like they were made to fit together. Bruce is lulled into a dreamless sleep listening to the steady sound of Timothy’s breathing.

When he wakes the next morning he can’t help but move Timothy’s hair from out of his face and study Timothy’s features. At some point in the night, Bruce had ended up on his back with Timothy atop him. Bruce softly pets his ears and Timothy begins to stir and that’s when Bruce notices that Timothy’s hard. Bruce accidentally shifts Timothy which causes him to shallowly move his hip. Timothy lets out a soft moan and moves his hips faster. Timothy opens his eyes a moment later and freezes. He looks up and sees Bruce’s eyes are on him.

*

Tim has never moved faster in his life. He scrambles off of Bruce and locks himself in the bathroom. Tim feels like he’s hyperventilating, he should have known better. He’s never spent the night in the bed with someone else in his human form. Of course he’d still get hard in the morning, or course he’d want to press against the heat of the other person. Heat continues to rise to his face as he thinks about what he did. But he can’t seem to get his penis to calm down.

*

Outside the bathroom, Bruce takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair. He makes his way over to the bathroom and knocks softly on the door. Timothy’s shrill “yes!?” comes from behind the door.

“Timothy, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Bruce says softly, but surely, “Morning erections are a natural occurrence.”

He hears the bathroom door unlock so he lets himself in. Timothy is standing in the center of the bathroom looking lost and sleep soft. His hair mussed and tail limp behind him. Bruce moves slowly so Timothy has time to react and move if he wishes to avoid Bruce’s touch. When he lets Bruce slide his hand through his hair, Bruce feels the tension he didn’t know he had leave his body. Timothy moves to hug Bruce, but it’s over so quickly that he has no time to hug Timothy back, or even react.

*

Tim quickly leaves Mr. Wayne alone in the bathroom. Mr. Wayne probably doesn’t have time to be helping Tim deal with his inner crisis. Tim hurries down the hallway to his bedroom and throws himself on the bed. He wraps himself up under the comforter, resolved to spend all day in bed to figure out what the hell is going on with himself.

The only problem is, all Tim can think about is the feeling of Mr. Wayne’s warmth against his body. Tim lets out a groan and slips his boxers over his hips, he can’t hold himself back anymore. He shivers as he exposes himself to the warm air. Wrapping his hand around his cock only serves to excite him further. The drag of his hand is dry, but thoughts of Mr. Wayne being the one to wrap his hand around him help him ignore that fact. He uses his thumb to spread precum over his sensitive tip and he lets out an embarrassing sound that brings more heat to his face. His tail thumps restlessly behind him on the bed as he jerks himself faster, hand slicked a little now by his own precum. He gently squeezes his scrotum, causing him to bare his teeth and thrust into his own hand.

Tim turns onto his stomach and lifts up onto his knees to make it easier to move his hips. When he shifts the comforter slips off of his body, his cock twitches with the heat of the blanket gone. His hips start thrusting uncontrollably and he feels pressure build in his hips and his lower back. Tim squeezes the base of his dick to stave off his orgasm for a few moments more. He wants to cum, more than anything, but Tim is wrapped up in the fantasy of Mr. Wayne's large, warm hands wrapped around his dripping cock. Milking him until he begs for release. Tim keeps biting his bottom lip to keep his noises quiet. He hasn't touched himself like this in over three months, what with being stuck as a cat and all. Tim hears a knock at his door and Mr. Wayne’s voice come through the door, “Timothy?”

But Tim feels too good to stop, too lost in his fantasy to register that the voice isn't in his imagination. He comes with a loud cry when he twists his fingers around the tip of his cock when he thrusts one more time and releases the base of his cock. He’s dully aware the door opening behind him and Mr. Wayne starting to ask, “Timothy are you–?” He’s also vaguely aware of the fact that his ass is in the air, his tail raised to expose his asshole. Mr. Wayne let’s out a choked noise, and it’s that sound that spurs Tim into motion. He quickly pulls the comforter back up to cover himself. 

Tim sits up to face Mr. Wayne, “I’m sorry Timothy, Alfred sent me to see if you were hungry, but then I heard you and I thought… I thought you were in pain so I rushed in.” Tim is sure he’s as red as a tomato, but he somehow gets warmer when he feels that he’s sitting in the spot where he came.

“Forgive me Mr. Wayne–” Tim starts, but Mr. Wayne shakes his head.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for, I’ll be more…aware…next time. Take your time getting clean, I’ll tell Alfred you’ll be down to eat soon.”

Tim nods quickly, unable to find his voice to speak. Mr. Wayne offers him a smile as he walks out and closes the door behind himself. Tim pulls the comforter over his head and wonders if there’s a way to make himself disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next update by next Friday.


	5. Wet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early update;  
> another nsfw chapter.

Tim spends the whole day fretting about Mr. Wayne’s return home. An hour before Mr. Wayne usually returns home, there’s a knock on Tim’s door. Tim feels like his heart is going to explode with how fast it’s beating.

“Timmy, can I come in?”

Tim lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Come in,” he answers.

Dick opens his door and smiles at him, “Hey Timmy, wanna come watch a movie with me?”

Tim thinks about it, a movie would be a great distraction. Tim nods and feels a small smile form on his face when Dick give him an even brighter smile. Tim has realized that Dick is very tactile. It was difficult for him at first, because he’d hardly ever had any physical contact with friends, let alone his parents. So Tim doesn’t even question how he’s ended up sprawled out on the couch with his head in Dick’s lap. Tim is finding it very hard to focus on the movie with the distracting way Dick is scratching the nape of his neck. And he’s almost positive Dick has to strain to hear the movie with how loud he’s purring.

Tim is close to falling asleep when he hears someone enter the media room. Tim groggily looks up from his place on Dick’s lap and is met with Mr. Wayne’s hard eyes. If Tim had been able to pay attention to anything besides the large man he would have noticed the shit-eating grin currently on Dick’s face.

“Timothy,” Mr. Wayne finally looks in Tim’s direction, “We need to talk.”

Tim’s mind instantly goes to the incident from this morning and he feels himself break out into a cold sweat. Mr. Wayne turns to leave and doesn’t even offer a backwards glance to make sure Tim is following him. Tim’s tail twitches with agitation as he gets up to follow. He remembers exploring this side of the house while he was shifted, and he also remembers that no one really ventures to this side of the house. Tim focuses on stilling the twitching of his tail to distract himself. When Mr. Wayne enters the door to a library, Tim thinks his tail might fall off from how fast it’s twitching.

*

Bruce settles into an arm chair and Timothy stands a few paces away looking like his skin is too tight for his body. “Please, sit and relax.”

Timothy looks like he’s going to have an aneurism as he moves robotically to the couch that is directly in front of the chair Bruce settled in. Bruce notices Timothy grab hold of his tail as if to keep it from moving. Bruce can’t help but be reminded of that very morning when he’d walked in on him and those hands were wrapped around his – _enough._ Timothy begins to fidget when Bruce doesn’t speak for a few minutes. Bruce softly clears his voice and Timothy visibly jumps, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you, Timothy.”

“Tim,” Timothy blurts out, “Please call me Tim.”

Bruce offers what he hopes is a warm smile, “Then, please, call me Bruce.”

Timothy looks as if Bruce told him to stab him, “I – I could never! Not after everything you’ve done!”

Bruce coughs into his hand in order to not laugh, “Please?”

Timothy’s face has a conniption, “If… If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“Then… Um… Bruce,” Timothy stutters, “What did you want to t-talk about?”

Bruce’s face becomes serious and Timothy visibly tenses. “It’s about our secret identities.”

Timothy looks like a balloon being deflated, “I thought this would be about…um…this morning…”

Bruce feels his face and dick twitch, but he schools his expression, “Timo – Tim, I told you this morning, that was my fault. I shouldn’t have just barged in.”

When Timothy opens his mouth to argue, Bruce holds a hand up to stop him, “But back to the main point; Batman.” Tim nods silently and Bruce continues, “I hope you know the importance that the truth of these identities stay…secret.”

Timothy nods his head again, vigorously, “I would never tell! You’ve been so kind to me, I could never!”

Bruce can’t help but smile at that. “I really appreciate that Tim. Then I guess this conversation is over with.”

Timothy looks shocked, “That’s is? You’re not… kicking me out?”

Bruce tries his best not to look angry because he knows Timothy will think it means that he is angry with him and not with the people who made Timothy so afraid of being cast out at any moment. Bruce offers his best reassuring smile, “I told you Tim, you’re welcome to stay for as long as you’d like.”

Timothy’s smile is like Bruce’s on personal sunshine, and before he realizes it, he’s reaching out to touch his neck. Timothy’s eyes and ears flutter at the touch. Bruce can’t help but to touch the boy, coaxing a soft purring noise from the boy’s chest.

*

There’s a knock on the door which causes Tim to jump back from Mr. Way – Bruce’s touch, as if they were doing something truly indecent. Bruce stares at Tim for a moment and then turns towards the door, “Come in.”

It’s Dick, “Are you done scaring Timmy, because we have some very important cuddling to attend to.”

Bruce gives Dick a scathing look, but nods his head. Dick turns a smile towards Tim and he rises quickly to scurry to Dick. He takes Tim’s hand and leads him back to the media room. “Um,” Tim murmurs, so Dick stops to face him. “He wasn’t… ‘scaring me’. Just making sure I’ll keep your secret.”

Dick just chuckles and ruffles Tim’s hair before he begins leading him again. At some point, Tim had fallen asleep on top of Dick. Which is worrisome, because Tim is having a rather…intimate dream and he’s sure his body is writhing against Dick’s. He hopes Dick thinks it’s a nightmare and not a…wet dream. In his dream he’s back in the library with Bruce, being petted all over by his warm hands. He moves into Bruce’s lap to make it easier for Bruce to reach. Tim is sure he can feel his erection pushed against his stomach, but Bruce ignores it in favor of continuing to pet him. “Tim,” Tim shivers as he feels Bruce’s voice rumble against his chest, “Strip.”

Tim climbs off of his lap to remove his clothes, only to become trapped in his pants. He makes a strangled sound as he struggles to get out, until he feels large hands on his hips, stilling him. Bruce squeezes his hips and Tim bites his lip to hold in a moan and avoid embarrassing himself further. 

“Let me help,” Bruce says as he leans down to help Tim get his feet out of his jeans. Seated back in his lap, Bruce begins petting him again. Tim shivers at the feeling, he’s never been pet like this while human, it feels…electrifying.

 _Or is it just because it’s Bruce?_ A voice whispers in the back of his mind.

But that train of though is cut short when Bruce pets down his back and his fingers accidently brush the base of his tail. Tim gasps sharply and thrust is hips against Bruce’s stomach. Tim’s entire face feels like it’s on fire as he moves to climb off of Bruce.

“I – I’m so sorry,” but before he can climb off of Bruce, his hands are on his hips again. Tim looks up at Bruce’s face and is shocked to see the fire behind his eyes. Bruce shifts Tim so he’s seated with his legs on either side of one of Bruce’s thighs. Tim gasps as his scrotum is pressed more firmly to Bruce’s wide thigh.

“It’s alright,” Bruce whispers into his ear as he slides Tim’s boxers so the waistband is pushed behind his balls. Tim wraps his arms tightly around Bruce’s neck while Bruce urges Tim with his hands to move his hips. Tim is eager to comply and begins grinding against Bruce’s leg. Tim bites his lip so hard he feels it might bleed, but he doesn’t want to bother Bruce with the noises he makes. But obviously that’s not what Bruce wants because he wraps his hand around the base of Tim’s tail and squeezes it softly. Tim is no longer able to hold his voice back as a jolt runs up his spine from his tail. He arches his back and moves his hips faster, getting Bruce’s pant leg wet with his precum. The smooth slide of Bruce’s slacks against the underside of his cock and scrotum and the added wetness of his own precum is maddening. Tim is moaning constantly at this point, hands clutching desperately at Bruce’s shoulders. When he feels Bruce’s hands slide to his ass to grip each cheek and urge him to move his hips faster Tim sobs and his cock twitches.

He realizes Bruce is whispering into his ear at that point, “What a good boy, humping my leg like a bitch in heat. So wet for me, dirty little boy –” Tim can’t focus on his words anymore when he feels his balls start to draw up. He thrust as hard as he can manage against Bruce’s thigh. That’s when Bruce decides to part his cheeks and press his finger at Tim’s entrance and Tim can’t take anymore.

Tim shouts awake as he comes in his underwear. Dick jerks awake at the sound of Tim’s voice, but by that point Tim has sprinted out of the media room.


	6. Excitement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly didn't think it would be this long...

Tim ignores the knocking at his door, he’s too busy wallowing in his own self-pity to interact with anyone else. Not only did he come from a wet dream on top of Dick, but that dream had been about Bruce. Tim groans and tries to bury himself deeper into the comforter. Eventually, Tim manages to fall into a fitful sleep. When Tim wakes up he feels groggy, and when he looks at the bedside clock he realizes why. He’d managed to sleep through the morning, and the flashing 2:17pm on the clock seems to be judging him. Tim sighs resolutely and climbs out of bed.

When Tim makes it to the kitchen it’s empty. The house feels abandoned without the sounds of Alfred in the kitchen. Tim notices the wrapped plate of food on the counter by the microwave with a card labeled “Master Drake” and silently thanks Alfred in his head. Seated at the table alone, Tim is suddenly struck with a loneliness he hasn’t felt since he’d come here three months ago. Ears drawn tight, Tim forces himself to finish the meal Alfred made for him. When he’s finished Tim is on his way back to his bedroom when he passes a window, something colorful catches his eye. He stops in his tracks and faces the window to look out, it’s a garden.

Tim’s tail swings excitedly and he rushes down the stairs and out the front door. He hadn’t realized there was a garden, and some fresh air would do him some good. Maybe he’d even be able to pick some flowers as an apology for ditching Dick. When Tim reaches the garden he notices there’s someone else is in it. Tim is about to turn to leave when he hears a woman’s voice, “Hello there, kitten.”

He freezes in his tracks and meets her eyes. He’s never seen this woman before, she’s got long flowing red hair and forest green eyes. “You must be Bruce’s new...pet”

The hair on Tim’s tail bristles, “And who are you?”

The corners of her lips turn up, “I’m Pamela.”

_Is she Bruce’s girlfriend?_ He thinks. At that thought a sharp pang of jealousy shoots through his heart. Her smile turns cruel and before Tim can open his mouth to question her further, vines shoot out from behind her and wrap themselves tightly around his body. Before he can scream out, and vine forces itself into his mouth, silencing him. Tim attempts to struggle as the vines pull them towards Pamela. She reaches out to caress his ears and he quickly presses them close to his head. Tim feels a sudden rush of dizziness.

“Oh, you pretty little kitten,” she crones, “He’s going to drive himself mad to rescue you when he finds out you’re gone.” When she’s finished speaking is when Tim finally passes out.

*

Timothy has kept himself holed up in his room all day and Bruce starts to worry. When Alfred informs him that dinner will be ready soon, he makes his way to Timothy’s bedroom. He knocks softly at the door and waits for an answer. When none comes he inquires, “Tim?”

When there’s still no answer he continues with, “Tim, I’m coming in…”

Bruce slowly opens the door and is greeted with…an empty bed. Bruce keeps himself from fretting by reasoning, _maybe he’s just wandering the house._ Bruce makes his way to the dining room, “Alfred, could you please look for Timothy while we eat?”

Alfred give him a withering look that’s gone before he blinks again, “Of course, sir.”

While down in the Cave getting ready for patrol Alfred clears his throat behind him. “Master Bruce,” Alfred looks troubled, “I found this in the garden...”

In Alfred’s hands is a white envelope with ‘Bruce’ neatly scrawled on the outside. A cold dread fills Bruce as he opens the envelope and begins reading.

_Dearest Bruce,_

_Don’t worry, I have your precious kitten. He is rather naïve and trusting, poor thing. I won’t touch a hair on his precious head, however I can make no promises for the guest who will visit me tonight. Your lovely Timothy is patiently waiting for a hero to save him from his arraigned marriage. There’s also a special surprise for you included in this envelope, hopefully your friend Batman isn’t too busy tonight._

_Love,_

_Ivy._

Bruce feel like his heart has dropped out through his feet. Bruce opens the envelope wider to see and earpiece. He place the earpiece into his ear and hears the sound of someone panting on the other end.

“Tim?” The breathing on the other end of the comm catches.

“ _Bruce,_ ” Timothy’s voice sound small, “ _please._ ”

“Robin,” Bruce pulls his cowl over his head and heads to the Batmobile, “We have a hostage situation at the abandoned church.”

Bruce feels as if he can’t drive fast enough, the sound of Timothy’s pained breathing and quiet begging for Bruce to help him pushes him to drive faster. Halfway to the church Bruce hears laughter through the comm, “ _What a beautiful specimen._ ” Bruce’s fingers tighten at the sound of a new, unknown voice.

“ _I’ve been searching for you for months and I finally found you._ ” Bruce has to assume the man hurts Timothy in some way because he lets out a yelp.

“Be strong Tim,” Bruce’s voice is strained, but he won’t leave Timothy alone. Timothy’s sobbing is the only sound to answer him. There’s the soft sound of something being torn.

As Bruce stops abruptly in front of the church he hears the voice speaking again, and he as to assume his mouth is located close to where the comm is, because it feels like he’s whispering into his ear, “ _I can’t wait to cut you open and study your perfect, little body._ ”

Bruce sees red as he rushes into the church. Robin veers to the left and shoots his grappling hook to climb in a window. The first thing Bruce sees is Timothy in a chair, he has vines wrapped around him that are half torn. To Timothy’s right is a heavyset man who looks to be in his thirties. The man smile an ugly smile at him. “Batman, how nice of you to join us,” Bruce takes a step forward, but freezes as the man holds a hand up.

“Uh-Uh-Uh, I wouldn’t take a step further, unless,” the man reaches into his shirt pocket to produce a vile of gas, “This toxin from Ivy will cause this boy an immense amount of pain.” As he speaks he grips Timothy’s ear tightly and Timothy lets out a pitiful wail. Bruce contemplates the pros and cons of attempting to reach Timothy before the man can react, but as he thinks he sees something move above the man; it’s Damian. Damian is staring intently at him, and Bruce doesn’t raise his head any higher to make eye contact, but subtly nods his head. Damian drops from his position to take down the man, but as the man hits the ground the vile shatters.

Bruce moves quickly to Timothy, he tears the remaining vines off of him and lifts him into his arms. When Bruce looks back to Damian he has the man zip tied and unconscious. “Alert Gordon and wait here until he arrives,” as Bruce turns to leave Damian grips his cape.

“And after?”

“You carry on with patrol Robin, I’m heading back to the Cave to make sure Timothy is uninjured and unaffected by the gas.”

Damian offers a curt nod and releases his cape. Bruce runs the Batmobile and after Timothy is safely buckled in his seat and Bruce in his own, he rushes back to the Cave. In the passenger seat, Timothy is making concerning noises. “B – Bruce,” he croaks.

“We’re almost back Timothy, just a few moments more,” Bruce tries his best to sound reassuring and not tense, like how his whole body feels. Timothy continues to make a noise every few seconds and with each sound Bruce feels closer and closer to having a breakdown. Not a moment too soon, Bruce pulls into the cave, he’s flying out of the Batmobile and over towards Timothy’s side of the car. Unbuckling Timothy feels like an eternity, and when he grips Timothy to pull him out, he shouts and attempts to pull away.

Bruce releases him and stares at him with wide eyes. Timothy pants heavily and shakes as he mumbles, “Hurts…”

Bruce struggles to hold in his anger, “I promise, I won’t touch you after I lay you on the gurney.”

Timothy seems reluctant, but he grits his teeth and nods. Bruce lifts him and carries him as quickly as possible to the medical area, but as Bruce turns to leave Timothy grips his wrist tightly.

“Don’t…Don’t leave me…” But Timothy seems realize what he’s doing and releases him quickly. “S-Sorry.”

“Tim,” Bruce starts and waits for Timothy to meet his eyes. His eyes are foggy and his pupils blown, “Can you tell me where it hurts the most?”

Timothy blushes and hesitantly looks towards the direction of his legs. Bruce follows his line of site and that’s when notices it, Timothy is hard in his shorts.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr, yaoihands-san.  
> Please leave comments and kudos.  
> Constructive criticism is always welcomed.


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